


Home invasion

by Anonymous



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Pre-Undertale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-24 18:33:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21104069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Undyne comes home after a long night.Someone is already there. And he's unbearable.





	Home invasion

Undyne whistled an upbeat tune as she turned the key in the lock. It was still stuck in her head after the human history marathon at Alphys’s. 

Moving fully automatically, she threw her coat across the room at the coat peg. Her hand hovered over the light switch when she noticed the place was already lit. 

She did a double take. 

There were candles on her table. What’s more, there was a fancy tablecloth, two covered plates, two wineglasses, and a bottle in a bucket of ice. 

Her coat hadn’t made it to the peg. It had been intercepted in flight by Mettaton, who had draped himself seductively over her piano, and draped her coat over his rectangular body like it was a toga. 

Undyne sighed. “Mettaton.” 

“Undyne!” came the reply. Mettaton’s lack of a mouth didn’t deter him from smiling. 

“Why are you in my house?” She glanced at her keys. “_How_ are you in my house?” 

“Undyne, Undyne, Undyne. Undyne Undyne Undyne. My dear darling Undyne. Isn’t it enough to know that I’m here, with you?” 

“What do you want?” 

“A little bird told me that you haven’t eaten dinner. Not a _proper_ dinner, anyway. Care to join me?” 

“Join you? In my own house?” 

“Tut-tut. Let’s not get caught up in semantics.” 

Undyne was more than a little hungry. She had declined Alphys’s noodles. Reluctantly, she pulled up a chair. 

“Here we are!” 

Mettaton wheeled up to the table and lifted himself into the other chair. One of his arms stretched around, behind her back, over her shoulder, and he lifted the covers of both plates at once. 

Undyne raised an eyebrow. The food looked…good. It was distinctly unlike the food he displayed in his cooking show, where all the intermediate steps of his recipes were executed rather too forcefully and the final product, while pristine, had the pallor of plastic. 

There was a salad with beans, olives, and poached eggs; something quite inventive with potatoes; and a chunk of lightly cooked meat. 

The only thing that would have rendered it out of place at a proper restaurant was that her portion was very very large. One thing could be said for Mettaton - he knew that the way to her heart was through her stomach. 

“Bon appétit!” 

She dug in. It was delicious. She strongly doubted that Mettaton had prepared it himself. 

“Mm. But really. What the hell are you doing here?” 

Mettaton sputtered. “Do I need an excuse to see my favorite Royal Guardsman? The Waterfall Watchwoman? The most skillful fighter born this side of the century?” 

The flattery touched something in her. She tried to ignore it. “Yeah, you do. The door was locked.” 

“Details, details.” Mettaton waved it away with his fork. A potato hit the wall. 

He was still wearing her coat, and nothing else. Rather than hide his frame, it seemed to only accentuate the angles. Her throat tightened. 

_God, he’s insufferable._

She ate fast. Before long, her plate was empty. 

Mettaton, of course, hadn’t eaten at all. But much of what used to be on his plate had been spread to other parts of the room by his animated gestures. The current topic of his monologue: himself. 

“But as I’m sure you know, in episode seventy-eight, I was revealed to have faked my own death!” 

She had seen that particular episode. But she wasn’t about to admit that. She fixed her stare on him, and didn’t say anything, waiting for him to finish and hopefully leave. 

She soon realized her mistake. Mettaton’s self-knowledge was sufficient to carry on a conversation for hours without any outside help. 

“Mettaton.” 

“Yes, dear?” 

“Don’t you have other places to go?” 

“But we haven’t even touched the wine yet!” 

That was true. 

One glass couldn’t hurt. 

It became rather more than one glass. Mettaton had extra bottles stashed away in a secret compartment. Every once in a while he splashed his control panel with some of the precious liquid, heedless of the sparks. 

Undyne leaned across the table. She poked Mettaton in his chest. “You’re, you’re a real asshole, you know that?” 

Mettaton gasped. “What? Me?” 

“Yeah. You gotta, you gotta stop talking about yourself. And.” She frowned. “And you gotta stop breaking into my house.” 

“But I am by far the most interesting topic of conversation in the entire Underground! And you forced me to break in, by insisting on locking your door!” 

“Look. Just because you’re so, so”—she gestured at his body—“so fucking _handsome_, doesn’t mean you get to be like this. You need to care about other people.” 

She tried to get up, but immediately fell over. Mettaton’s arm caught her, and carried her close to him. 

“But I care about _you_, darling.” 

Undyne groaned. 

Against her better knowledge, she leaned in for a kiss. 

Mettaton extinguished the candles. 


End file.
